ambidextrous
by LZClotho
Summary: Neverland. Season 2. Let's just say, Regina appreciates Emma's skills… with both hands. tumblr Prompt fic: Anonymous asked: Ambidextrous


**tumblr prompt fic: Anonymous asked: Ambidextrous**

**Summary:** _Let's just say, Regina appreciates Emma's skills… with both hands._

**Ambidextrous**

**.**

It was impossible _not _to watch the sparring as Emma practiced using her sword with her father. While Regina had always considered Emma Swan to be much like a bull in a china shop, the woman was surprisingly adept with the weapon in her hand. Graceful even. Muscles flexing in her arms, skin glistening with sweat, the determined set of her jaw, and the way her green eyes glittered, and her pink lips twitched almost like she was holding back a smirk. The fierceness of Emma's spirit was almost palpable in the camp clearing. Regina shifted on her log by the firepit as Emma took a step into one of her father's moves.

Even David was smiling as he swept his sword at his daughter. Then the hilt of Emma's blade was suddenly there, following through on an upward burst of motion. As David stepped back, Emma did something so unexpected — she switched hands.

One moment the sword was in her right hand, assumed to be her dominant hand — Regina herself had been punched in the face by that same fist after all. She rubbed her jaw in memory as David's sword clattered out of his hand and onto the ground. Then the sword was in Emma's left, tip sweeping toward the ground.

David stepped back. "What was that?"

"I was a switch hitter in high school," the blonde explained. "Discovered I could use either hand. For almost anything." Regina was caught by a suddenly direct green gaze and the smirk on pink lips that was barely there before it was gone made Regina's middle give a funny little twinge.

"That's excellent." David's voice broke the connection and Regina felt a grimace briefly twist her lips. Emma's gaze also snapped back to her father's face.

As father and daughter resumed, Regina watched with renewed interest. When David stepped into another move, Emma's smile pulled at Regina's insides like a marionette master on a pile of wood. The metal swords clanged repeatedly in the stillness of the clearing and, Regina felt, the beat matched the timing of her own heart. Her gaze slid down every ridge of muscle tightening and loosening in Emma's arm as she parried the strikes.

Regina's gasp was a surprise even to her when Emma made a sudden turn, caught Regina's gaze with a smirk, and then, a sweeping stroke later, David's sword left his hand in a high arc, landing several dozen feet away.

When David stepped out of the contact to retrieve his sword, Emma's voice ended their session. "I'm done," she said. "Let's pick this up later."

Father glanced from sword, to daughter, and then briefly to Regina before he nodded. "All right." Picking up his sword, he slid it into his hip sheath and strode into the trees. "I'm going for water," he said just before he was out of sight.

"OK. See ya," Emma replied, throwing herself toward a long fallen log David and Hook had dragged near the firepit when they set up camp. Instead of sitting on it, the blonde thumped down to the dirt, leaning back against the wood instead. The sword in her hand clanked noisily against the ground. Regina snapped her gaze toward the sound only to find Emma's gaze on her. Her heart was racing.

But then the moment was over almost before it began. Emma uncorked her canteen and tipped her head back, the water within mostly going down her throat in large gulping swallows. Regina's gaze fell to the flexing throat muscles and the water that left the spout, missing Emma's mouth, and trickled down sparkling skin to dampen the scoop neckline of Emma's faded and ripped green tank top.

Regina pulled her gaze away and rubbed her palms on her pants.

Emma's voice broke the silence. "You wanna work some magic?"

"I just heard you tell your father you were done."

A green eye peeked from beneath a half-opened lid. "I got plenty left," Emma said.

"You called off the sparring to spare your father?"

"I'm not interested in embarrassing him."

Regina studied Emma in the silent wake of that statement. "Charming," she concluded dryly. She was rewarded with pale pink lips tipped up at the corners.

"Thank you." And Regina heard the trembling timber in Emma's words. The lost girl who wanted to keep her family.

Regina considered Emma as the blonde turned her gaze down, playing with the canteen cap, in fidgeting silence. Long fingers played with the short chain. Fingers of both hands.

"All right."

The green eyes blinked a moment in confusion then cleared as the message was confirmed. "I," Emma began quietly. "I saw a glade to the west. How's that sound?"

"Acceptable."

* * *

"Oh god." Regina's voice was throaty, hoarse, a moan pulled from deep inside her. She raised both arms and covered her face with her hands. On her back on the ground, she writhed under Emma Swan's assault. "God, Emma," she panted.

Emma smiled and moved her hands again. Both of them. One went to Regina's chest, the other pulled another cry of surrender from the arched and straining woman's very core. A twitch of her fingers and Emma exerted a magic she'd mastered long ago.

With pleas fumbling from gasping reddened and swollen lips, Regina was giving Emma victory. The former queen lost the battle to the white knight.

Emma plundered, and plied, and claimed breathless and gasping lips until Regina lay quiescent and panting, spent and quivering.

Pressing her advantage, Emma pressed her lips to a sweaty throat, pulling her body over Regina's on the ground. She then whispered into the delicate shell of an ear. "I said I was good with both hands."

Regina's laughter pulled Emma's lips into a broader smile before she muffled the sound, covering the ruby lips and catching the harsh breathing in her own mouth. She curled her fingers and touched off another fire within Regina.

Burned away was the pretense, the guise, the artifice in which the Evil Queen had been born to protect the crushed heart of a young woman.

Now that heart was rejuvenating. Emma eased back and looked up from trailing kisses along a collarbone to see tears flowing down cheeks ruddy with the color of the squalling newborn.

Regina Mills curled toward the chest of her savior, a contented sigh passing her lips to warmly caress Emma's throat. Emma squeezed a gentle hand to the curve of a naked hip in silent reply.

.


End file.
